


Relief

by KittieHill



Series: Prompts [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Rings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Swearing, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrote this in about 10 minutes as i was all angsty and tired. Not beta'd etc.</p>
<p>Please see notes for further info...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I know that i normally update my writing fairly regularly. I have a few stories which are due another chapter or so but i have had some family issues (my grandma is currently in hospital and it's not looking good) so i haven't had time (or want) to write recently as i'm doing shifts at the hospital. I wrote this in about 10 mins because my head feels full of Sherlock and John due to not writing for a while. 
> 
> I WILL be updating my stories once everything is back to normal. Thank you for your understanding.

_It’s not always like this,_

Most of the time, it’s soft and slow. Intimate and lazy as Sherlock kisses every spare inch of John’s body, worshipping at the altar of Doctor John Watson. Drinking in the sights and smells of his beloved,

But sometimes, when the case has been hard or Sherlock misses something, it becomes frenzied and angry. When they are too slow to solve the puzzle resulting in an innocent life being lost, the lovers lose themselves in furious and selfish passion. Biting and scratching, swearing and slapping flesh until normally creamy, pale skin is marred with red lines and handprints.

Sherlock tops during these times; his hips pistoning in and out of John’s tight entrance leaving the doctor gasping and begging for relief as his cock is hugged by the circle of plastic ensuring he can’t climax until Sherlock is ready. John accepts the rules and holds on to the headboard until his fingers go white with strain.

He loves these times but he sometimes feels out of his depth; like he’s swimming in a sea of treacle and drowning under Sherlock’s ministrations.

Sherlock growls and curses; angry profanities which would never leave his lips spew into the air between them as he thrusts harder and deeper, hitting John’s prostate with each thrust. John whimpers and moans, his mind breaking away like wet sand as Sherlock pounds into him whilst screaming angrily at the mistakes he’s made, at the clues he’s missed, at his failures.

_It’s not always like this,_

John hears the change in Sherlock’s breathing, the erratic panting which signals his impending orgasm. The doctor knows his role; he’s been with Sherlock long enough to understand the part he has to play, he removes his hands from the headboard and places them against Sherlock’s nipples, pulling at the silver rings which hang from the dusky pink nubs until the detective is screaming and gasping.

‘Fuck, yes, fucking going to cum…. John’

Sherlock pulls off the circle menace which grips John tight and throws it from the bed to land goodness knows where. John makes a strangled wail as Sherlock rubs the leaking precum from the tip over the shaft and tugs hard, _once, twice_ and John’s coming with a groan and a hiss, throwing his head back and closing his eyes tightly as he covers his lower stomach with pearly strands.

Sherlock strokes him through it; filthy and lewd words spilling from his lips as his hips continue their constant pounding until he’s on the very edge of his peak. He needs more to get him over and looks down pleadingly at his lover who understands immediately;

‘Sherlock’ John groans, his head thrown back to show off the long line of creamy skin which is mottled with pink and purple bruises of exuberant passion.

Sherlock comes hard, his hips shuddering and his breath held as the climax washes over him and fills John with warmth. Sherlock stills, his heart racing as John strokes his hands up and down the detective’s ribs and arms.

_It’s not always like this,_

But when it is; John pulls Sherlock to his skin and lets the younger man sob into his shoulder, safe in the circle of his lover’s arms as John soothes him with words of his brilliance.

Sherlock remembers each and every life he was too late to save, but _when it is like this_ , he doesn’t have to.


End file.
